


i can't explain it (any other way)

by joshllyman



Series: sportsfest 2020 fills [37]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Hockey, M/M, Mentioned Kuroo Tetsurou, Nonbinary Akaashi Keiji, Nonbinary Character, Other, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman
Summary: The first thing Bokuto notices upon entering the rink that’s supposed to be his for the next hour is that there’s already music pumping through the speakers. It’s some alternative song that he’s probably heard during warmups before, but he can’t put his finger on the title or artist.The second thing he notices is that there’s already someone on the rink.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: sportsfest 2020 fills [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789072
Comments: 17
Kudos: 124
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	i can't explain it (any other way)

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song player over the speakers when Bokuto first walks into the rink: [The System Only Dreams In Total Darkness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2O6duDDkhis) by The National. This is a Sportsfest fill/Bokuaka Week double whammy. The Sportsfest prompt was the DCOM Go Figure. The Bokuaka Week prompt was day 2, college au.

The first thing Bokuto notices upon entering the rink that’s supposed to be his for the next hour is that there’s already music pumping through the speakers. It’s some alternative song that he’s probably heard during warmups before, but he can’t put his finger on the title or artist.

The second thing he notices is that there’s already someone on the rink.

Frustration boils just underneath his skin. There’s a sign-up sheet for a reason. He hasn’t gotten private time on the ice in weeks because he hasn’t been able to get a slot when he doesn’t have classes. Now he finally has time, an hour all to himself, and there’s someone else out there. His hand curls into a fist at his side.

“Oi!” he shouts over the sound of the music. “Your hour’s up!”

The skater comes out of a low spin, elegant and graceful, and looks up at Bokuto. They skate toward him, and somewhere between finishing their trick and their face coming into view, Bokuto falls in love. Their face is all sharp lines and hard edges, gorgeous on a level way far out of Bokuto’s league, and their dark curls stick slightly to their forehead from the sweat they’ve worked up. 

“Are you certain you’ve got your time right?” they ask when they’re in range. “I’ve only been here twenty minutes or so.”

Bokuto frowns. Beautiful they may be, but they’re also wrong. “Yes, I’m certain,” he insists. “I signed up for four to five this afternoon.”

“I had three thirty to five,” says the skater coolly. “There must have been some confusion.”

Bokuto bites the inside of his cheek. It’s probably not this person’s fault, and he really doesn’t want to blow up on them, but if he doesn’t get some practice in he’s going to get benched. “What’s your name?” he asks.

“Akaashi Keiji,” replies the skater.

“I’m Bokuto Koutarou, I’m a second year, and I’m a starting forward for the hockey team. I’m the best, only I can’t be the best if I don’t get my practice in, and in order to practice, I need the ice. I haven’t had a slot in weeks. Please, can I have it?”

Akaashi raises their perfect eyebrows slowly through Bokuto’s little speech. It’s only once he gets all the words out that he realizes he sounds like an asshole, but he sticks to his guns anyway.

“What makes you think a starting forward for the hockey team is more important than a figure skater?” Akaashi asks. 

“It’s not--I didn’t--” Bokuto sighs. “That’s not what I meant. Sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Akaashi says. “What did you mean, then?”

Bokuto takes a deep breath. Maybe he’s jumbled because Akaashi is so pretty and he’s a bisexual disaster, or maybe he’s just letting his emotions get the best of him, but either way he needs to win this argument. “They’re equally important. I guess. Look, why don’t we flip on it or something? Or--wait, I have a great idea! Let’s race for it!”

Akaashi’s lips lift just a bit, a shy sort of smile, maybe. They cross their arms. “That hardly seems fair. I don’t skate for speed, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto grins. “Well then, you’ll have to hand the ice over.”

Akaashi’s smile grows. “Oh, I have no intention of handing the ice over.”

“Then let’s race.”

“As you wish. How does a lap of the rink sound to you?”

“Sounds like I’m gonna crush you, and that’s a promise,” Bokuto says with a wink. “You gotta let me get loose first, though.”

“Certainly,” Akaashi agrees, stepping aside to let Bokuto onto the rink. 

Bokuto can’t help but feel Akaashi’s eyes on him as he warms up. They stay off to the side, leaning against the side and watching him carefully. He does lengths of the ice, careful not to bump into the walls too hard like he would if he were in pads. When he glances over at them and sees Akaashi stretching their arms above their head, a sliver of hip exposed where their shirt rides up, he trips. But like, only a little bit, and he recovers quickly, so Akaashi probably doesn’t even notice.

Probably.

“Alright, I’m good,” Bokuto says, skating back over to where Akaashi is standing. “Ready to lose?”

“Something like that,” confirms Akaashi. They lick their lips and rake their eyes up and down Bokuto’s body. Bokuto’s throat dries out, and he’s about to make some sort of comment when Akaashi smiles.

“Go,” they say simply, and they’re off before Bokuto can protest.

“Fuck!” Bokuto shouts, skating after them. 

Akaashi’s quiet laughter certainly doesn’t help him gain any momentum. It’s kind of a struggle to stay on course, especially since he’s several steps behind them and able to ogle their long legs and tight ass. Akaashi had claimed to not skate for speed, but their legs go on for several miles, and their strides make it difficult for Bokuto to gain back any distance he’d lost by being distracted. In the end, Akaashi tags back up at the line where they’d started several long seconds before Bokuto comes flying after them. He crashes into the wall just past them, hanging over the side.

“You fucking cheated,” he whines.

“I used your distraction to my advantage,” Akaashi corrects him. “It’s not the same.”

“Whatever. It’s bullshit.” Bokuto kicks at the wall, letting his emotions overtake him for a moment. Then he realizes he’s making a fool of himself and stands back up. He turns to Akaashi. “Sorry. You won, so I’ll leave.”

“Wait,” Akaashi says, reaching out a hand and grabbing Bokuto’s forearm. Bokuto looks down at it and tries not to go bright red under their touch. “We can share it. I’ll stick to one half, you stick to the other.”

“Are you sure?” Bokuto asks. It will severely limit what they can both do.

Akaashi smiles, genuine this time. They’re still grasping his arm. “Yes, I’m certain. Stay, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto blushes. There’s something about the way they say his name that’s driving him crazy. “If you insist,” he says. 

“I do,” Akaashi affirms. “I insist.”

Bokuto swallows. “I’ll just...get the equipment, then,” he mumbles. Akaashi finally releases him, and he steps off the ice to grab the net and a bucket of pucks.

Down on his assigned end of the ice, he slaps shot after shot into the goal. He can’t do much of an approach, but something is better than nothing, he supposes. It’s usually a good way to burn off the jittery feelings that build up from a long day or week of classes, but today he’s finding that those feelings aren’t going away. He knows it has everything to do with the skater on the other end of the rink. The hairs on the back of his neck won’t lay flat. When he finishes his first bucket, he looks up.

That’s a hell of a mistake.

Akaashi is spinning, their arms above their head. They whirl around and around, over and over again. They finish a spin, skate out of it, and start again, all without missing a step. Bokuto forgets how to breathe watching them.

The song overhead changes, and Bokuto snaps out of his daze.

The rest of his practice, he hits the pucks far more aggressively than he really needs to. It causes him some misses, but it feels good to get the energy out. When the buzzer rings to indicate their session is over, he feels drenched in sweat, but in a good way. His body is buzzing pleasantly in the way it does after a hard workout. He’s halfway off the ice with the goal on one shoulder and the bucket on the other when Akaashi skates up alongside him. They take the bucket from his hands before he can say anything.

“You seem angry,” they comment.

“What? Oh, no, I’m not,” Bokuto says. He brushes his hair out of his face with his now-empty hand. “I was a little frustrated when I got here, but we worked it out, I think. I was happy with the practice I got in.”

“That’s good,” Akaashi replies. Bokuto steps back to allow them off the ice first. “You were hitting those pucks with quite a bit of force.”

Bokuto is already red from exertion, but if possible he gets a little redder. “Uh, I didn’t realize you were watching.”

Akaashi hums. “You said you’re only a second year?” 

“Yeah,” Bokuto answers. He’s still a little embarrassed, but pride makes him stand up a bit taller. “I started last year, too. I’m on full scholarship.”

“You must be very talented, then,” Akaashi says. There’s a ghost of a smile on their lips. “The best, even.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto replies. “Yeah, I’m the best.”

Akaashi sets the bucket down, and Bokuto drops the goal. Akaashi turns to him.

“Bokuto-san,” they begin. Bokuto is caught in the steely blue of their eyes. “I think I’d like a bit more of a workout tonight.”

“Oh,” Bokuto replies. “I mean, this rink is probably reserved but there’s usually a free skate on the public rink, if you wanted to go over there. Doesn’t do me much good, really, can’t shoot pucks when there’s people around.”

Akaashi’s eyes glimmer. “That isn’t quite what I meant.”

Bokuto blinks. Akaashi licks their lips again.

“There’s a gym in the student center?” he suggests.

Akaashi places one hand on his chest, and there’s definitely a smile on their face now. They look him up and down again, stopping on his thighs, his arms, and then his face.

“I may have been intentionally disrupting your start earlier,” Akaashi murmurs. “But you should know that my attraction to you isn’t something I’m faking.”

Bokuto considers the facts. 

Number one: Akaashi is definitely attracted to him. Evidence: they just said so.

Number two: Akaashi has suggested a workout. He assumes they mean for him to join them. Evidence: they didn’t seem interested in the free skate, where they could get more time on the ice in, or in the gym.

Number three: Akaashi is currently touching his chest. Their suggestive glances could be interpreted as eye-fucking. Evidence: they keep landing on his muscles, and they’ve licked their lips like three times since Bokuto showed up.

Conclusion: Akaashi isn’t talking about a traditional workout. 

“You don’t mean a workout, you mean sex,” Bokuto says. 

Akaashi smirks. “Yes, that is what I’m suggesting. If you’re interested.”

Bokuto’s mind very helpfully supplies him an image of Akaashi’s arms stretched out over their head.

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “Yeah, yes, I’m definitely interested.”

“Excellent,” Akaashi says. “I’ll meet you out front in five minutes.”

They start to walk away, but after a step they turn back, grab the front of Bokuto’s shirt, and tug him in for a fierce kiss. It causes Bokuto to stumble a bit, which is embarrassing, because he hasn’t lost his balance in skates when he wasn’t pushed since he was like, twelve. But also Akaashi kisses like the world is ending and Bokuto’s the last thing left to hold on to, and that’s hot as hell so he can’t say he really minds too much about the stumbling.

With a quick nip to his bottom lip, Akaashi steps back. They look relatively composed still, which must be nice for them because Bokuto thinks all the blood has gone straight to his dick. “Five minutes,” they remind him, patting his bicep.

“Five,” he repeats.

He’s out front in three and a half, which is by far the quickest he’s ever gotten out of his skates. It’s wild, he thinks to himself as he waits, that someone as pretty as Akaashi would want him. He’s not bad looking--objectively he might say he’s pretty hot--but Akaashi is on another level entirely, in a league with like, supermodels and actors and stuff. He’s starting to think the whole thing was a fever dream induced by lack of physical activity when Akaashi comes out of the building and walks up to him.

“Do you mind if we go to my apartment?” they ask. They’re wearing glasses now, which is fucking insane because they were already so dazzling without them and now they’re. Holy shit. Bokuto thanks every god he can think of.

“That’s cool,” he says, as if it wouldn’t be cool to literally follow Akaashi right off the edge of the earth. 

Akaashi shifts their stuff to their far shoulder and offers Bokuto a hand. Bokuto thanks the gods all over again.

“I like your glasses,” Bokuto says as he takes their hand. Akaashi starts a brisk walk in the opposite direction of Bokuto’s apartment. “They’re really cool. Very suave. You seem like a suave sort of person. What are you studying?”

“Literature.”

“Oh man, you look like a literature student. Not in a bad way! I just mean you look very studious, kinda serious, you know. It’s hot. No, not hot, you’re incredible. Lovely. Exquisite. Did I use that work right?”

“You did.”

“Exquisite, that’s it. Are you on the figure skating team? ...Do we have a figure skating team?”

“I’m not on a team,” Akaashi answers. “I skated through high school, but I quit to focus on my studies.”

“Smart!” Bokuto replies. “I, uh, I’m only really good at playing hockey, you know? I’m studying children’s literature. I want to be a librarian, I guess, if I can’t play hockey professionally, and I’m passing my classes but barely, you know? But I volunteer sometimes at the library reading to kids and it’s kind of great to bring them that magic, you know? Anyway, everyone in high school always called me a dumb jock and I’m not like, the smartest, but I’m not stupid, I don’t think.”

Akaashi stops him and pulls him close by the shirt again. Bokuto’s nose bumps into theirs. 

“Bokuto-san,” they say. 

“I’m sorry, I’m talking a lot,” Bokuto says. 

“I don’t mind,” Akaashi answers. “I think...I think you’re very sweet. You should be kinder to yourself.”

Bokuto blinks at them. They’re so close he can count every one of their eyelashes, if he wants. They’re in public, so he probably shouldn’t kiss them, but fuck, does he want to. Akaashi’s eyes dart down to his lips like they’re thinking the same thing.

“How much further is your apartment?” he asks.

“Just a bit further.”

“Okay.”

Akaashi looks at him for another moment before setting off again. They’re tugging Bokuto along now, moving so quickly he would have a hard time keeping up if he weren’t an athlete. It makes talking difficult, so Bokuto decides to save it. By the time the apartment is in view, they’re practically sprinting. 

Akaashi’s apartment is on the third floor, and between the running and the stairs, Bokuto is panting by the time they’re through the door. Akaashi seems not to mind, pressing Bokuto firmly into the wood as soon as it’s closed behind them. Their skates drop to the floor of the genkan as they wrap their arms around his neck. Bokuto lets his skates fall from his hand, too, and takes Akaashi’s slender hips in his hands.

Akaashi is surprisingly strong, considering their build. Bokuto supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, since he’d seen them pulling off jumps and spins that would require incredible leg and abdominal strength, but it’s still something of a thrill to be held in place by someone so much smaller than himself. Without talking about it, Akaashi seems to have decided they’re in charge here, and Bokuto can’t say he minds one bit. His own build makes it easy to assume he likes to dominate, but Akaashi seems to have deciphered the truth without ever asking.

Another quality that makes them insanely hot.

They pause long enough to slip their shoes off. Akaashi’s hands slip up under the hoodie Bokuto’s wearing, their fingers dancing across bare skin. They smile to themself when they reach Bokuto’s nipples.

“Pierced,” they observe.

“Uh, it was a dare from my friend Kuroo,” Bokuto explains sheepishly.

Without another word, they tug Bokuto’s hoodie and shirt off. They pinch one nipple between their fingers. Bokuto whines high in his throat, slumping down a little against the door. Akaashi murmurs something so quietly that Bokuto can’t quite hear what they say.

“Sorry, what?” he asks.

“I said you’re fucking ridiculous,” Akaashi says, looking up at him from under their lashes. “Your pecs are literally picturesque, your abs are stellar,  _ and _ you have pierced nipples?”

“Sorry,” Bokuto says again.

“Stop it,” Akaashi says, leaning up to kiss him again. “You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, Bokuto-san, stop apologizing for it.”

Bokuto would like to retort that they are much more attractive, but Akaashi chooses that moment to stick their tongue down his throat, and between that and the fingers still pinching his nipple, Bokuto doesn’t really have any words left, anyway. 

Akaashi trails from his mouth down to his neck, using their free hand to tip his chin upward so they can mouth at his throat. They scrape their teeth over his skin; Bokuto moans louder.

“You can leave marks, if you want,” he says sincerely. “My roommate, Kuroo--he’s the one who dared me to get my nipples pierced--he’s a theater major so he knows how to do makeup.”

Akaashi sinks their teeth into his neck. Bokuto shouts loud enough that the neighbors probably hear. He can’t bring himself to care.

“I’ll do your makeup myself,” Akaashi says, sounding almost irritable. They nip again, lighter this time but in the same spot. Bokuto squirms. “Or better yet, I’ll make you go to your classes without.”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto gasps as they press their thumb into the spot that’s surely bruising on his neck. 

“Fuck.” They rest their head against his shoulder. “How are you real?” they murmur into his skin.

“I was wondering the same thing about you,” Bokuto confesses.

Akaashi takes his hand again and leads him to the back of the apartment. There’s only one bedroom. There are lights hung on the wall above the desk and a few photos of Akaashi and various other people, mostly a woman who looks to be a few years older than them. It’s clean, if a bit disorganized. Bokuto thinks with a small measure of guilt about the laundry piling up in the corner of his own bedroom and is grateful Akaashi suggested coming to their apartment.

“Is that your sister?” Bokuto asks. “She’s very pretty. She looks a lot like you.”

Akaashi doesn’t quite push Bokuto to the floor, but it’s a close call. He sits with his back against the wall and accepts Akaashi into his lap. Akaashi strips off their own sweater before taking his face in their hands again and kissing him. It’s a little softer now, but no less heated. 

“I promise I will tell you about her,” Akaashi replies, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, Bokuto-san, if you’ll do me a favor.”

“Anything,” Bokuto says, meaning it literally. He’s very certain he would do anything Akaashi asks.

“ _ Please _ suck my dick.”

“Oh! Yes, yeah, I’m really good at that. I’m told.”

“Perfect.”

They get back to kissing. Bokuto runs his hands over Akaashi’s chest, feeling the smooth skin beneath his palms. Akaashi rolls their hips into Bokuto’s groin. The merest hint of their erection against his own causes Bokuto to erupt in goosebumps, which seems to delight Akaashi. They drag their fingers slowly down the inside of his arm, which causes him to shiver even more. Bokuto hooks his thumbs in the waistband of their leggings, dragging the fabric down just enough to reveal a bit of their ass. He cups it gently, letting his fingers press in just the slightest amount, and Akaashi breaks their kiss to push their head against Bokuto’s cheek.

“Keep going,” Akaashi encourages him.

Bokuto slips the leggings down further. Akaashi’s entire ass is bare now. Bokuto holds it with both hands, squeezing the supple muscle. Akaashi hums and pushes further into Bokuto’s grasp. Bokuto smiles against their lips. He’s not sure who to thank for the mixup about the ice schedule, but he feels like he owes them a large plate of brownies, at the very least.

“You’re so hot, Akaashi,” he says, kissing their throat. “So pretty, I want to suck you off so bad…”

Akaashi laughs in a breathy way. “Then do it.”

“You have to lose your leggings,” Bokuto says.

“They’re half lost already,” Akaashi retorts, but they ease out of Bokuto’s grasp and onto the futon. They strip the leggings off and toss them in the direction of the hamper. 

Bokuto licks his lips. He’s never been one to obsess over the details of another person’s penis: a cock is a cock is a cock, as far as he’s concerned. But objectively speaking, Akaashi’s is pretty damn nice. They’re long and not too thick, perfect for sucking, if he’s telling the truth. He says to to Akaashi, and a bright pink blooms over their cheeks.

“I can think of a lot of other things I’d like you to be doing with your mouth,” they say, turning their face away.

“Lay back, then,” Bokuto says.

Akaashi lays back on the futon, holding themself up with their elbows. Bokuto grins brightly as he goes to his hands and knees, his head right over Akaashi’s cock. 

“You can tug my hair if you want,” he says. “Or pull it. You can fuck my face, too. I can take it.”

Akaashi tosses their head backward. “Bokuto-san.”

“I know, talking too much. I’m just letting you know.” 

With that, he takes Akaashi all the way to the back of his throat. Akaashi moans, a ragged sound dragged from deep within, and reaches down to thread their fingers through Bokuto’s hair. 

Bokuto wasn’t lying when he said he’s good at this. He hollows his cheeks and sucks, taking as much of Akaashi’s dick as he can. Akaashi grips him a little tighter, and he moans, trying to encourage them. He pulls off to lick enthusiastically at their shaft before closing his lips over it again.

It’s not long before Akaashi’s hips jerk upward. Bokuto wraps an arm around each of their thighs, and they dig their feet into his back. He opens his jaw as much as he can, giving them room to thrust.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Akaashi groans. The tip of their cock hits the back of Bokuto’s throat. “Oh, fuck!”

Bokuto bobs his head eagerly. He loves knowing he’s doing a good job, loves the sounds that fall from Akaashi’s lips. His own erection aches with need. He can’t help but grind it into the futon, trying to relieve some of the pressure. When he looks up and glances at Akaashi’s face, he moans around their length. They’re totally blissed out, their eyes barely open, their jaw gaping in a beautiful o. Bokuto was already totally gone for them, but the look on their face only cements his feelings. He squeezes Akaashi’s hip, hoping he can convey everything he’s thinking without speaking.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, their voice tight. “Pull off, please, I’m close.”

Bokuto looks up, meeting their eyes, and takes them down a little further.

Akaashi’s hips jerk up, forcing their cock down his throat. Heat spills down his throat. Bokuto keeps swallowing, pulling back a bit and using his hand to finish pulling Akaashi’s release from them. Akaashi’s hand falls away. Their hips collapse to the futon.

“What the hell,” they say faintly. 

Bokuto pulls away from their dick. “Uh, sorry. I like to swallow, but I should have asked first…”

“Come up here,” Akaashi says, lifting their hand weakly. “Kiss me, Bokuto-san, right now.”

“Okay,” Bokuto agrees. He crawls up their body until their faces are lined up. He kisses their cheek first, and Akaashi huffs.

“You missed,” they deadpan.

“Nah, that was on purpose,” Bokuto says.

He cuts off their response by pressing his lips against theirs. They seem to regain their fervor as they kiss him, life spreading back into their bones. They run their thumb over his hip, making him jump.

“Ticklish,” they murmur.

“Just in the sensitive areas,” Bokuto replies.

Akaashi smirks. “Which ones are those?”

“Uh...all of them.”

Akaashi laughs and kisses him again, tugging his pants down as they do. Bokuto lifts his hips so Akaashi can get rid of them entirely. 

“May I try something?” Akaashi asks.

“Anything,” Bokuto replies earnestly.

Akaashi takes a deep breath. They turn so they’re more on top of him and leave a line of kisses from his lips to his ear. Bokuto gets goosebumps again when they whisper in his ear.

“I wanted to pin you against the ice from the moment I saw you,” they murmur. They tug at his nipples again, which harden under their touch. “I could tell you were all wound up, and I wanted to help you relax.”

“It’s working,” Bokuto breathes, and he feels the curve of their smile against his skin.

“I’m glad to hear it,” they reply. Their hand drifts further down, tangling in the thicket of curls at the base of his cock. “I had a feeling I knew exactly what you needed. I wanted to take care of you right there, Bokuto-san. I wanted to strip you down and fuck you against the wall right there on the ice. Would you like that? Would you like me to fuck you?”

Bokuto whines. “Yeah. Yes, please, Akaashi.”

“I thought so,” Akaashi says. They stroke his cock from bottom to top. “I was too impatient today, but next time, I’ll take my time getting you ready.”

Bokuto thinks he might die at the concept of a next time. Akaashi’s fingers swirl around the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-come that’s beading there onto their hand.

“We’ll start just a little at a time,” they continue. “We’ll spread you open a finger at a time. We’ll go nice and slow so I make sure I don’t hurt you.”

Akaashi is pumping his cock now, long, even strokes that have Bokuto shivering. Bokuto feels like he might cry, the pleasure is so intense. Every nerve in his body is on fire.

“I’ll make you beg for it, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi sighs. They sound wistful, almost, imagining it. “I bet you’ll look so pretty crying for me.”

He’s thinking about crying now. Akaashi’s hand is steady and warm and he’s getting desperate. 

“Please, Akaashi,” he whines. “Please, please…”

“I’ve got you,” Akaashi says. They lick the shell of his ear. “I’ve got you.”

Bokuto loses track of what Akaashi says after that. They keep up a steady stream of words in his ear, but the only thing he can focus on is their hand around his cock. It’s not long before his whole body tenses and he’s coming in spurts over Akaashi’s hand. Akaashi kisses his cheek when he finishes, burying their nose in his face.

Akaashi rests their arm over Bokuto’s stomach and tosses a leg over his. They run their fingers through his hair. Bokuto feels more relaxed than he has in a long time with Akaashi snuggling into his side.

“That was good,” Bokuto murmurs. “The thing you tried. With the talking. Really good.”

Akaashi hums. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“You could, uh. You could do that again. Another time. If you wanted.”

“Take me out to dinner first,” Akaashi says, their statement punctuated by a yawn.

“Okay,” Bokuto agrees. He smiles up at the ceiling. “Okay. I can do that. You’ll tell me about your sister?”

“Yes,” Akaashi says. “I’ll tell you about my sister.”

“And your ice skating? You never told me about why you started. Or how long you’ve been skating. Or if you ever won any awards.”

“Bokuto-san.”

“Yeah?”

Akaashi sits up and looks down at him, smiling. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“Okay,” Bokuto says. Akaashi kisses him again, and he smiles against their lips. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> [socials here](joshllyman.carrd.co)


End file.
